


notations

by halcyoneous



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Double Entendre, Karmagisa Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyoneous/pseuds/halcyoneous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>his anticipations, dispositions and questions are related to the resident trickster that plays with connotations and denotations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	notations

**Author's Note:**

> not prompt specific but if I can finish something this week why not

Twenty-one consecutive days were enough to turn little antics into serious habits, Nagisa heard somewhere. Though he was sure he has been stealing glimpses at his classroom's doorway for way more weeks. For he was no longer a second grader, but a third grader, no longer in the grand main building, but in the abandoned old building. And the entrance he always kept a close watch on was no longer the strong iron structure, but the aged wooden board which would be more suitable as insects' food than a class' structural component. And the moon was no longer round, but was somehow reduced into a crescent for the rest of history.

And some people who used to pass by his former door, who used to say hi to him, would now pass similar doors in different rooms and would not even look at him as their equal. And they were replaced with the new set of classmates which were also regarded as misfits, just like him. And the normal adult humanwho took the _homeroom teacher_ position was now replaced by a yellow, huge unidentified creature with tentacles and super speed. Even the routine of greetings was altered, ninety-degree bows discarded for rounds of machine guns and throwing knives.

But there were things untouched by the massive changes.

Nagisa’s clear blue eyes would still wander around the doorway multiple times a day and it’s not helping that he sat in the second row, on the side nearer to the door. The others would just assume he was trying to observe his surroundings or Koro _-sensei’_ s weaknesses or just spacing out without any clear cause. But Kayano, the new girl who was assigned to sit in his left, asked him, “Why are you always staring at the door?” during an explanation at Biology.

“I’m waiting for what else would they—the school, or the government—send here for the assassination,” he told her with his usual beam, bright yet meaningful. So far, they had only received an unkillable target and packets of arms made from a special material and they were far from enough. Given the serious danger it may impose if the mission failed, he believed they would get more help from here and there. But what Nagisa was anticipating the most wasn’t a more powerful killing device or a professional assassin tutoring session.

It was still the one which he searched for during the last days of his second year in middle school, the one which was taken out from the respectable community of students and would be disposed here in the E-as-in- _end_ class when it was time, the one which made him develop the tendency to stare at the door.

A certain redhead still did not show up, not even once after an incident in which he hit an honor student to protect someone from last year’s 3-E. Nagisa could not predict whether that person was able to murder their teacher, but he was sure that person would perform better than the rest of the class combined. Although a Physical Educations teacher from the Ministry of Defense may be an even better choice and an even more relevant one—since impossible lessons like _jumping sideways while making clones that play ayatori_ gave them a hard time.

When he, Akabane Karma, ended up making his initial appearance in this assassination classroom,it was neither from the old building’s doorway, nor was it in the morning before the first period starts. It was from the edge of the spacious field on the other side of the mountain in the bright afternoon, in which the students were watching Isogai and Maehara’s effort on attacking Karasuma, their new assistant teacher. Karma was still unpredictable was ever, Nagisa added that into his train of thoughts about the boy who just came back, which were still flowing in a constant speed if not any faster.

The two noticed each other’s presence and greeted each other, and they were going to have some small talks if not for Koro- _sensei_ who welcomed Karma into his class. One tentacle burst when Karma’s right hand shook it, thanks to the shards of anti- _sensei_ knives stuck on his palms. Nagisa was right—Karma had a head start compared to the others who started earlier with his own characteristics alone; well-spoken and clever and assertive and skillful in fighting and trickery without anyone having to coach him on those subjects.

And on the next days, Nagisa would still keep an eye on the doorway in the morning. But now, a certain redhead would be making his entrance from there on the right time and Nagisa would be able to speak a simple sentence he had practiced in his mind a lot of times—“Good morning, Karma.”—which was just one out of the list of things he would want to say to the same person. Yet he felt relief when the words were out of his mouth.

“Morning, Nagisa,” Karma replied, “I will try to kill this teacher today, too.” His drastic change of attitudes from cheerful to impassioned in a few split seconds was amazing. Moreover when you realized his smile didn’t leave his face in its entirety, it just turned into something more twisted yet still fitting well there.

Nagisa came into a conclusion that he still pondered over the same subject he did on the previous days, which is Karma. And he didn’t even know when he started developing that other habit of his. And it persisted.

At a quiz they’re having, in which Karma previously stole the teacher’s authentic Italian gelato and ate it and spread special bullets on the floor so that their target would slip _—_ Karma would never give a care about the rules.

At the road near the train station, in which some of their old classmates were mocking them for their current stance, and said that they would rather die than be in Class E and then Karma scared them away with just a crushed ice cream—Karma had his own concept of justice and would do everything to maintain it.

Through a homeroom session, in which a bloody dead octopus lied in the largest and foremost desk and Karma admitted he killed the animal since he thought it was Koro- _sensei_ , then the teacher turned it into a box of _takoyaki_ using military equipments which were missing from its supposed place—Karma’s sense of humor was peculiar and dark and he’s not going to have a complete recovery from _chuunibyou_ any sooner.

Through the rest of the day when Karma’s multiple assassination attempts were reciprocated with various methods of beautifications (nail art for an unshot gun at Math, pink frilly apron for an intended spill of someone else’s cooking at Home Economics, hair styling for a littered banana skin at Japanese Literature)—Karma was dashing enough without anyone having to polish him and now he was blinding like the first rays of sun at the dawn when they hit your naked eye.

And at the incident in which Karma jumped off a cliff—he sure had no fear and he would stop at nothing to get what he want _,_ and though Nagisa doesn’t want to see anyone dying in front of him, he knew by first-hand experience that self-sacrifice would not work, so he was not that panicked—and Koro- _sensei_ created a safety net out of his tentacles.

Nagisa was never so relieved to see someone alive, but Karma’s next action was to ask Nagisa to go home with him in a very relaxed manner, as if the suicidal act never happened. The bluenette would not reject the offer, because he saw it not only as more time together, but also as an opportunity to ask about the matters he could not conclude by himself.

“Karma, I want to know about something,” he started as they walked downhill, side by side.

Karma tilted his head and responded, “What is that, Nagisa?” And that teasing gesture made whatever Nagisa had wanted to say the most for an eternity to slip out of his mind in an instant.

 “Um… it’s just about what others said about you…” he muttered as he tried to sort out which opinions about Karma he was going to quote here. Karma was popular both in a good and a bad way, he had the looks and the brains and the quirks and the crime record,so it was a given if Nagisa had difficulties indicating exact sentences people used when the theme of their conversations was _the handsome devil_.

“What did they say about me?”

The gleam in those golden irises was enigmatic and dangerous, so was the appeal in the resonance. The combination had dictated Nagisa to return his answers the exact time he found it, but it did not do any justice to his scattered brain. So, the next few minutes were silent except for the footsteps and breaths and _heartbeats_ , the latter getting louder the further they went, whether it was caused by the physical activity or the quizzical ideas that grew inside their respective heads—Karma thought of the most interesting anecdotes possible, while Nagisa’s thoughts were getting crazier.

They remained in the same state until they were at the last turn before the train station, in which Nagisa sort of resolved his lost words, “It’s a long time ago, so most likely you knew it already… but I want to know what people mean when they say you have a sweet mouth.” And now after he said it he felt the warmth of the blood rushing to his cheeks—the sentence sounded embarrassing and probably inappropriate when recalled, it’s as if he was flirting with Karma ...wait, flirting? Nagisa always have admired him, but only as a friend and a person and a future assassin.

 _“_ No... I mean...” Nagisa tried to correct his statement but he didn’t know what to replace it with.

“You do understand metaphors, don’t you?” Karma cut him off. And it made sense for Nagisa, for he guessed so at the first place, but something was still not right enough.

“I do, but I don’t think I... ever fell so hard for your words? But then a lot of the others do? So it was not figuratively true?” he spoke in a manner that left the ends of his words hanging, as if he was questioning all things Karma, who chose to creep closer to and circle his arms around his companion’s lithe shoulders while asking, “Do you want to know whether it was literally true?”

“Y-yeah, but how are you going to...?”

Now, Nagisa was _really_ questioning Karma. He felt like he should shy away from the charming lad as the distance between their faces kept shortening, since it could have led to dubious behaviors. But then he should not just jump into conclusions, maybe nothing harmful would happen at all. But what else can Nagisa say if they were only a breath’s distance and he had that honeyed voice whisper into _his lips_ , “If I say it’s by letting you taste me, would you mind?”

“No, I won’t,” because he’s too weak to things he couldn’t just scrutinize by himself to figure out. Things he must touch with his own bare hands, experience with his own body and soul.

Although he had no idea on how do you _taste_ someone—okay, he did, but a very weird one; lick them all over until you can associate it to something you have eaten before—or do they need to be this near to him so he could taste them. Or does it involve sucking lips and prodding tongue against his mouth so he could be entered deeper, or should he play around or not? But he ended up doing it anyway, taking clues from the movements that Karma used towards him, not replicating but using them as a base for his next actions.

Nagisa pressed the corners of their lips together and opened his mouth to savor the flavor served for him. It did not remind him of the usual idea of sweetness, for it was not pure sugar, honey or his favorite fruit juice. More like traces of the various foods Koro- _sensei_ fed Karma, like the takoyaki sauce or the fixed soup they ate with lunch, mixed with the more dominant saliva and _whatever unfamiliar sensation he didn’t know the proper name for_ , because he never had been kissed except for the occasional smooches on the cheeks his mom gave him and it made him uncomfortable.

Yet the only thing making him uncomfortable here was the fact that they were in the sidewalk of a street a lot of people still use. And even if the others were that indifferent with their surroundings, he doubt that they would ignore a situation you would not see every day and everywhere like two boys wearing the same middle school uniform showing public display of affection with _each other_.

He would like to pull away and excuse himself, might as well cancel their plans and promise to eat together tomorrow, but Karma grabbed him tighter and lolled out his tongue so it would tangle with Nagisa’s, and the latter would love tofollow suit now but he was suffocating from the sensitivity and the burnout of the heated kiss, so he released himself and gasped for air.

“Ahhhhhhh, Karma _-kun_ ,” raspy and breathy and sounded like obscene moaning that _should be illegal_ , “Why would you... here... not telling before... what if anyone...” and his incoherent words weren’t any better.

It was logical for Karma to put his index finger in front of Nagisa’s lips and hush the blushing youth, “Not so loud, Nagisa, or anyone would have known like that. Though if someone doesn’t like what we’re doing, I would have fought them for it,” with that knight in shining armor attitude again, “And it could have ended worse because I cannot resist myself. Back to the topic, were they right about it?”

“Eh?” Once his voice was kind of normalized already, Nagisa almost asked what Karma was talking about, but then everything clicked inside of him. Oh, the taste? “Not exactly sweet, but I’d say it was the taste of Karma.”

“Nice,” Karma smirked on the description, “If not here, how about inside the train later?”

“They would still see,” Nagisa murmured as he led them running to the station, since a suspicious laughter— _“Nurufufufufufu”_ —was audible from their behind.

For God’s sake, of anyone who could have walked on and reacted on them, why should it be their homeroom teacher?


End file.
